The Ugly Duckling (Excerpt)

Cooking

"I am so glad you decided to cook with us. We heard Atlas had taken quite a liking to you," Aunt Lizzy said.

The lady was nothing like I imagined, and neither was Aunt Erika.

Even Adele would be home in the big old kitchen filled with every modern convenience yet retaining a touch of that rustic, homey, old-fashioned air.

"Animals either love or hate me; there's no in-between. Mom was never into pets, and I only had a goldfish at five, but the neighbor's cat got in the house, and that was that."

"Do you feel like peeling a few potatoes?" Lizzy asked, frying onions to start a traditional Bobotie, a half-Malayan dish adapted by South Africans.

"Mother!" Jeanette pretended shock.

"What? Mercedes, do you have a problem peeling potatoes?"

Barry's mother winked naughtily, and I knew we'd get along like a house on fire. That saying always seemed so odd.

"That's about the only thing Mother thinks I'm good at."

"Do you not cook?" Erika, Jeanette's mom, asked, dusted in flour up to her elbows, kneading out dough for the fresh bread and buns served with every meal.

"Speaking in general," I corrected, "My mother has little faith in my stellar ability to succeed. Despite holding a job with Harris for three years, she treats it with little more consideration than if I flipped burgers at McDonald's."

"And what did she say when you landed the lead role in a movie?" Lizzy asked, and Jeanette gave her a little warning glance, which she blatantly pretended not to see.

I loved the relationship between mother- and daughter-in-law, not minding Lizzy's honest curiosity.

"Well, I didn't say anything. Adele would assume I got talked into doing something or think it was a joke, and even if she could be convinced it was neither, she would not hold her breath that I would succeed. That "go-getter" vibe my sister has, was apparently not installed in my operating system."

"That must have been tough on you, growing up," Erika said with her daughter's perception.

"Not that it did wonders for my self-esteem, but she's overly protective of me in her own way. I think she doesn't realize the consequences of essentially telling me not to bother trying because I'd suck, to protect me from getting hurt if I tried and failed."

"That's not healthy," Lizzy said, a frown tugging at her perfect dark blond brows as I peeled potatoes with the diligence taught by a woman who hated waste.

Jeanette placed a glass of red wine beside me and sat across from me, getting ready to peel onions.

"Have you ever tried telling her that her way of trying to keep you from getting hurt is hurting you?" Lizzy asked, sipping a dry white wine as she prepared a charcuterie board filled with sweetmeats and cheese for us, and my stomach grumbled a little.

"Until Harris offered me this movie deal, it was as if I were asleep my entire life. Happy to be in Kelsey's shadow hiding from the world. He awoke something in me with this opportunity that I didn't expect."

Until then, I hadn't considered any of this, almost fearing it might still flop if I put my hope in it. Was I doing to myself what Mom always did to me?

"So, how did this go in your head, Liefie? Were you just going to wait until the movie posters popped up all over the internet and everywhere else?" Erika asked.

Liefie was Afrikaans for love/lovey, I learned from Dean at some point.

"Mercedes doesn't deserve any of this and never wanted it. At least, that's what she thinks," Sherise said from the door, and Jeanette motioned for her to join us. "Now she does want it, and she fears it might go away even if she reaches for it."